Strangers in a strange land
by sodapoppana
Summary: The dwarves are starting to arrive to Hobbiton and poor Gruffo Boffin has no idea what to do with them. Especially when the two certain dwarves decide to change his pipe-weed to something else. A high hobbit does not please Thorin.
1. Chapter 1

It was a peaceful and lovely evening. The weather was perfectly good for having a smoke outside on one's porch. A hobbit was leaning on the wall of his little hole making small circles out of the smoke. He had just learned making them, from the respected Mister Baggins (his third cousin in fact), so they weren't really completely circular yet. Most of the time they actually came out as smoke puffs. But that didn't lower his mood. He – Gruffo Boffin was his name – enjoyed the small breeze on his face that brought the scent of the upcoming summer. Nothing could ruin his evening. Or that's what he thought.

He was just admiring his simple yet lovely garden and the beautiful scene of Hobbiton, when he saw something that did not belong there. For a second Gruffo thought his Old Toby had gone bad or he had mixed it with something completely else, but finally he had to believe his eyes. There was a tall figure – tall for hobbit's standards, men would had thought him short, for he couldn't have been more than five feet tall – walking on the road that passed his house. As the figure came closer, Gruffo could see it was a dwarf and a one with no less than very frightening looks. He was bald and it seemed like he had tattoos in various places on his sturdy body. Warrior, that's what his whole essence was yelling, but it still shocked poor Gruffo when he noticed the scars the dwarf had, especially his ear, someone had ripped a part of it away!

Gruffo knew he was being impolite, but he couldn't help himself. He kept staring the dwarf as he walked past him, but fortunately, he didn't care about the small hobbit sitting on his porch, he didn't give even a glance at young Boffin. Gruffo knew that once in a while there was some weird people visiting Shire, but this was actually the first time for him to see a dwarf with his own eyes. And he couldn't figure out what he was doing there.

It took quite a while for the little hobbit to calm down after the upset and excitement of seeing a dwarf. But finally he did and he started to enjoy himself once again. He had decided to talk about the weird visitor on the next day at the market; someone would have to know why he was so far from Ered Luin, for that must be where he came from.

The first stars started to appear on the sky and Gruffo was thinking about the things he loved: healing herbs he had just planted four days ago, sitting in front of his hearth on the cold nights, having second breakfast on the porch in sunny mornings, that sweet dimple on the certain hobbit girl's freckled cheek (even thinking about her made Gruffo grin widely). He was thinking all the things hobbits could possibly love, when he was faced with yet another stranger. A dwarf it was this time too, but this one didn't look scary at all. This one looked gentle and he had a warm smile upon his face as he approached the halfling and stopped in front of him.

"Good evening master hobbit", he said politely and gave a little bow.

"E-evening", stuttered the hobbit startled by the fact that he was addressed by this stranger.

"Old Toby, I assume?" The dwarf asked and pointed at Gruffo's pipe. "You wouldn't have some to share with and old dwarf, now would you lad? It's been awfully long time since I've last had it."

The dwarf waited patiently as Gruffo processed the request and when he finally realized what he had been asked for, searched his pockets to find his wallet were he kept the pipe-weed and gave part of it to the waiting dwarf. The hobbit watched how the dwarf took his pipe, stuffed some of the Old Toby in and lit it.

"Wh-who may I be speaking to?" Gruffo asked carefully, scared that he might irritate the dwarf. How would he know if his visitor was some kind of an important dwarf?

"Ah, but of course, Balin at your service." There was no annoyance on the dwarf's face. Actually the friendly smile hadn't left his face even for a second.

The dwarf – Balin – was though now looking at Gruffo expectantly. "O, yes, um, Gruffo Boffin… at yours?" He gave the introducing a little unsure of himself, but Balin gave approving nod, which made Gruffo relax, but only for a bit.

Balin asked some common things about hobbits and Shire, whom Gruffo afterwards could not recall. The reason might had been just that he was so nervous of talking to a dwarf, that he wasn't even sure what came out of his mouth, or it could had been the two some ones who arrived soon after Balin had left. Later on Gruffo leaned more on the latter option (for there was more than one thing that was a bit blurry in his memories of that night).

When he saw the next two dwarves walking closer, he gave a sigh; this day was not going to end in the way the start of it had promised. These two were a lot younger than the first two and they had set their eyes on Gruffo. His sigh turned fast to a gulp as he saw the mischievous smiles that rose upon their faces.

"Hello there. Is that your home?" The shorter one asked pointing at Gruffo's little hole.

"Yes, in fact it is", the hobbit answered defensively. He only knew that dwarves lived in mountains and for mountains being big, the halls there must have be enormous. So he thought the dwarf was mocking him and he did not like it.

But the dwarf had no jeer in his voice when he, after studying the hole a while from the window, said: "Looks nice, really cozy. Do all hobbits have this kind of homes?"

Gruffo was a bit abashed to get more questions about his kin. The dwarves really were some curious folk. He told the blond dwarf that there was a lot of different kind of holes where hobbits lived and that not all of them actually inhabited a hole, some lived in wooden, rocky or brick houses. Even in Hobbiton. And that launched the next question and Gruffo had to tell about different places in Shire, try to show in which direction exactly they were and what kind of folk lived in which part.

"I think those Brandybucks sound like fun people." Gruffo almost jumped out of his skin. He had completely forgot the other dwarf, for the blond one was asking all these questions and the dark one had actually disappeared from his sight a whole while ago.

The halfling gathered himself before answering. "Well, that's only because you don't know them master dwarf. They are very weird, if I may say. Some of them even swim! Can you imagine that? Stays in water that is not in the bathtub!" Even the thought of it made Gruffo shiver. The two dwarves shared a certain look.

"As you say master hobbit. But now we really should continue our journey, ain't that right, Fíli?"

"Aye, very right, brother. Thank you for sharing your knowledge with us. Perhaps we shall see once more", Fíli said bowing to the hobbit with his brother. Gruffo really hoped that he wouldn't see any dwarves in a long while. Four of them in one evening were more than enough. "Now we have to head to Mister Baggins."

The dwarves were already leaving when the meaning of the sentence hit Gruffo. He quickly grabbed Fíli's arm. "Baggins? Do you mean Bilbo Baggins? What do you want from him? Wait, were those others heading to Bag End too?"

"Did you hear that brother? It seems we're not the first ones after all."

"I sure did Kíli. Though I really thought we would be."

"Excuse me!" Gruffo shrieked waking the dwarves' attention.

"His going to be our burglar", Kíli answered smiling widely, like it explained everything.

"B-Burglar?" Gruffo was stunned. Bilbo Baggins as a burglar? He couldn't see that to happen. Bilbo was honest, respected and a very ordinary hobbit. Gruffo was sure Bilbo had never stolen anything in his whole life! He would have told all this to the dwarf brothers, but they had vanished – apparently continued their journey – as Gruffo was busy being speechless.

Gruffo picked his pipe from the bench where he had left it while trying to show the Shire to Fíli and went back to stand on the road next to his hole and watch at Bag End's direction. He took a long aspirate from his pipe, kept it inside and finally exhaled. For some reason it didn't taste as it should had, it tasted… stale. But Gruffo couldn't have cared less. He heard a bird singing and it was the most beautiful song he had ever heard! He closed his eyes and imagined what the song was telling about; the merry things came to his mind. As he opened his eyes, he saw a pack of tall people coming his way and there was a giant with them! He stared the group in awe, his mouth open.

The group stopped in front of Gruffo. There were so many of them and they all had beards! "How fascinating!" He accidently said out loud.

"Yes, it is. Why on earth is there a hobbit standing in the middle of the road like he owned it all by himself?" Gruffo's eyes widened as he saw the dwarf talking. He had so complicatedly braided hair that the hobbit was confused where it started and which was the end.

"Now, now, Dori. Remember that we are in Shire now and hobbits are inhabitants here", the giant scolded the grumpy dwarf. Suddenly Gruffo knew he had seen this giant before and not long ago!

"Gandalf!" He yelled in joy.

The old wizard looked at him deeming. "Yes, and you are young Gruffo Boffin, son of Uffo Boffin and Sapphira Brockhouse, if I'm not completely wrong." Gruffo gave a wide smile, he had been recognized. "How are your parents?"

"They're fine, fine! But come, listen to this song! Have you ever heard anything so magnificent and glorious?" Gruffo closed his eyes again to enjoy the song and he expected everyone else to do the same. He wasn't extremely impressed by the fact that they didn't respect the most enchanting song ever, but actually dared to whisper behind his back!

"Does he mean the caw of that crow?" He heard a confused voice.

"He doesn't seem to be very sane. I hope our burglar isn't the same way as he is, Gandalf."

"If he finds that enjoyable, then we are not to judge him Bofur, and that does not make him insane Glóin", Gandalf said strictly.

The halfling was most offended by the manners of dwarves. He decided not to take notice on them anymore, for they did not deserve it. So he just kept standing there his eyes tightly shut though he could feel the stares of them on his back.

"I think… we should maybe leave him be?" Came a quiet proposal.

"That, Ori my boy, is a very good suggestion. We shall continue our way. It was good meeting you Mister Boffin; I hope you will stay well."

"Ah, yes, you too Gandalf, you too, very well indeed." Gruffo turned to face the old man but was careful not to look at the dwarves. Though he had no other option but to wave back at them as they all said farewells to him, he had been taught some manners after all.

Once again he was alone in front of his home. He took another aspirate from his pipe and then the third and the fourth and more he took them the better he felt. It was such a lovely night! Everything was beautiful, everything was perfect! Though the one last dwarf that was to come across his path, did not think the same.


	2. Chapter 2

A lonely dwarf was travelling in the lands of Shire. There were lights gleaming from the windows of small holes and Thorin could see many curious eyes following him. Weird creatures these hobbits, couldn't keep their nose out of other people's businesses, like they hadn't seen a dwarf before (which most of them actually hadn't, but Thorin couldn't have known that, for he had very little interest towards hobbits).

Thorin wasn't quite sure where he was supposed to be heading. He was tired of the day's travelling and he carried the burden of bad news (among everything else) on his shoulders. The meeting of Ered Luin hadn't gone the way he had hoped. At least the dwarves of the Iron Hill he had trusted to help them, but Dain didn't see it to be his or his kin's problem. What Dain seemed to forget was that they were the same kin; they were both from the line of Durin.

Walking in strange land Thorin felt himself very uncomfortable. For he was a dwarf and had grown up in the mountains, all this green and wide landscape was something he hadn't gotten used to. He was far from the place he had started to call home, though he had never completely thought the Blue Mountains as one, but that's what it was for most of his kin. Not that any of them had forgotten Erebor; it was always in their minds, most for Thorin.

Eventually Thorin decided he would need to ask someone how to find The Hill and Bag End, otherwise he would run around Shire, never finding his way to Mister Baggins. It seemed the luck was on his side, for there was a hobbit standing in the middle of his path (Thorin felt more than unpleasant to have to go and knock one of those round doors which concealed nosy little halflings – he might not have been in the best mood on that night).

Calmly the dwarf walked behind the hobbit. Weird fellow he seemed to be, eyes shut and humming something that sounded distantly like a nursery song mothers sang to their children. On his right hand he had a pipe and Thorin couldn't but wonder what the little one was smoking for it smelled rather rancid.

The dwarf king cleared his throat trying to get the hobbit's attention, but the halfling was apparently so deep in his thoughts that he couldn't hear a thing. So Thorin was left no other choice but to pat his shoulder and the hobbit jumped almost a feet high and gave a little cry as he did so. He stared Thorin with eyes as big as plates, hand on his chest. It took a few moments for him to calm down and regain his ability to talk.

"May I help you? I must say, I have been a lot of help today, mostly for… no wait. Yes there were a lot of dwarves, but I didn't exactly help them, did I?" Thorin raised his eyebrows; the hobbit seemed a bit queer. Maybe he should have knocked someone's door. Suddenly the hobbit jumped back a little and looked Thorin like he had appeared there out of the thin air. "Hello. And who might you be?"

"Thorin son of Thráin son of Thrór", the dwarf answered, but not quite in the rules of manners. He was not going to say anything about service, for the hobbit should have introduced himself first, not ask who Thorin was. "I am trying to find the way to Bag End. I was hoping you to help me with that." It was not a question since Thorin did not ask for favors; it was more of a compulsion for the hobbit to do what he said.

"Thorin son of…" The hobbit spelled slowly his face in thoughtful wrinkles. Then he suddenly brightened up and took a deep bow. "Gruffo Boffin, at your very service! I believe they went to Bag End too. Yes that's what he said. It's not hard to find there, it's remarkably easy actually. Hobbiton is clearly built place, but I dare you to go to Buckland and Bucklebury and try finding something there, not that easy task to do, I tell you."

Thorin interrupted the hobbit before he could go any further. "I would like to find Mister Baggins' house for now. I have no meaning to go to Buckland or any other parts of your Shire before I am done with my businesses in The Hill." He hoped that the stern look would help the halfling not to drivel anymore, it failed rarely but apparently this was one of those times.

"Yes, The Hill! Or over The Hill if you prefer that. Or of course across The Water. It's Bag End all the same. You know, Bilbo is actually my third cousin, yes, yes he is. From my father's side, and his of course. Bungo Baggins was my father's cousin, though now he is already gone. Married to a Took he was, Belladonna Took. Very rich woman and respectful. For a Took."

"Mister Boffin", Thorin growled, "I do not want to know in what all names you call Bag End, I just want to get there. And I definitely do not care about who is related to whom."

Finally the hobbit looked wary of angering the dwarf. He took couple nervous puffs from his pipe and relaxed evidently. The hobbit's eyelids were falling down and his head was swaying around. For a moment Thorin thought he was going to fall asleep right there on that road, but then he suddenly raised his head eyes wide open. He ogled Thorin for a long while making him feel most uneasy. Then out of nowhere he reached his hand towards Thorin but stopped the movement before actually touching him. After hesitating a second, the hobbit sank his fingers in Thorin's fur collar deserving the majestic glare from the dwarf. Not that he cared, just opposite, his face went into the brightest smile and he kept stroking the fur until Thorin snatched his hand away, causing a pout from the smaller one's part.

Thorin was just wondering if all the hobbits were like this, in which case he would go on his quest with the odd number of companions, no matter how ominous it was, when the smell of the hobbit's pipe-weed hit his memory. He knew this smell, it was henbane! He remembered the time when he and Frerin had once smoked it as very young dwarves. Their parents had not been pleased at them at all, and neither were they themselves on the next morning, nor the couple following days. They both had broken into a fever and Frerin's eyesight had gotten back to normal two days later than Thorin's did. It was particularly unpleasant plant and this hobbit should definitely not have smoked it.

Without a warning Thorin took the pipe away from the hobbit and knocked it empty not caring about the protesting from the pipe's owner. "My Old Toby", the hobbit whined and gave a cruel glare at the villain. Apparently the little one did have no idea what his pipe actually contained.

"Now, if you please, tell me the way to Bag End and I'll be off", Thorin said articulating clearly so the hobbit would finally understand him. He gave the pipe back to its owner and waited him to stop glaring so he could answer to him.

When the hobbit was finally finished with the leering he answered to Thorin, though still not telling the information Thorin wanted. "Why should I tell anything to your kind? Here I was minding my own businesses when suddenly there are dwarves everywhere! And then comes you and look what you did!" At that point the hobbit showed his empty pipe. "I am not telling you anything."

Thorin rubbed his temples and gave a heavy sigh. He needed some kind of plan how to reason with this halfling. "I am sorry, but believe me, you will thank me later", Thorin forced himself to apologize, though he didn't really mean it. He was about to continue his speech, but the hobbit interrupted him.

"Well I guess I deserved it. I am truly sorry. Bag End it was you wanted to find? It's easy, just follow this path, take turn to left from the bush of chrysanths, continue until you come to the bridge, don't go over it but turn to right. Then walk about 400 yards take the path to left and then you just climb the hill and you are there. It's the green door, just painted while ago, you can't miss it."

With that the hobbit fell on the ground unconscious. Thorin crouched next to him; the little one's face was all red. The fever was rising, but Thorin didn't think he had smoked that much of the henbane so little rest would probably do the trick. Thorin picked the hobbit up – he couldn't leave him lie on the road – and made his way inside the hobbit's hole. Luckily it wasn't a big one and Thorin could easily find the bedroom from the back of it, where he put the halfling down on the bed. Without really realizing it himself, Thorin tried to make the hobbit feel as comfortable as he could; he put an extra blanket on him and made sure there was a glass of water next to him. All those years with his nephews had made a soft spot on him.

Finally when he was sure the hobbit would be okay (he wouldn't want a dead hobbit on his conscience), Thorin headed out and towards Bag End. He remembered Gandalf saying it wouldn't be hard to find and from the halfling's instructions, it really didn't seem to be too difficult. Compared to way he had felt when he arrived the Shire he was now feeling surprisingly cheerful. He wondered if he had accidentally inhaled some of the henbane, which was completely possible, but it didn't worry him. Soon he would accompany his friends and they could start their journey to the Lonely Mountain.

What Thorin didn't know was that he wasn't going to find the green door that easily. Little Gruffo Boffin had been very mad at him for doing that to his 'Old Toby' and gave him false instructions. If the dwarf would follow them, he would find himself nowhere near Bag End.

* * *

Next afternoon – for the day had passed the mid-day long ago – when Gruffo woke up, he was convinced he had spent the last night in the Green Dragon Inn and drank something not suitable for him. He felt awful and he did not remember much from the last night. Restless dreams of dwarves had troubled his sleep. The glass of water next to his bed came handy indeed. It took four hours for him to get up after waking and he still couldn't walk very far without his legs failing him.

Poor Gruffo's fever lasted for three days and when he finally could step outside his door, he heard the news about Mister Baggins for the first time. Apparently he had left on an adventure with dwarves. And that's when Gruffo remembered every dwarf he had seen on that night, all thirteen of them. If the ones with who Bilbo had left were the same dwarves Gruffo had met (and it would be too big of a coincidence if they weren't), he wasn't surprised the respected Mister Baggins was gone now to who knows where. Especially those two brothers were lot to handle with their antics, for now Gruffo knew why the dark one – Kíli – had disappeared from his sight as his brother was making all the questions. He had changed the hobbit's pipe-weed to something completely else. Gruffo was pretty sure that was the reason he had acted so strange afterwards and why he had had this terrible fever.

Gruffo couldn't recall everything that had happened on that night, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't forget about the last dwarf he had met, which who must had carried him to bed for he had no memories of going there by himself. He was thankful to this dwarf, but he couldn't shake off the embarrassment. The hobbit had been rude towards him and even lied to him. He surely hoped he would never see any of those dwarves ever again or any other dwarves at that.

* * *

**A/N: For someone who had lost his way _twice_, Thorin seemed surprisingly cheerful when he arrived Bag End. Breathing henbane would explain that, right? Hopefully this wasn't too boring since it's mostly just a blabbering Gruffo.**


End file.
